Back home, Logan Ray hurried upstairs without even greeting his mother sitting on the couch.
"Logan, why did you just get back? Where did you stay last night, and why are you in such a rush?" Lana Zachary stood up from the couch, turned her head, and looked puzzled at her son’s back.
"I’m hurrying to catch a flight," Logan tossed back without turning his head, his figure already disappearing around the corner of the staircase.
"Catch a flight?" Lana Zachary repeated frowningly, quickly catching on and hurrying up the stairs after him.
The nearly sixty-year-old woman, although slightly puffy in stature, still carried a demeanor of elegance. Lana Zachary wore a dark purple cheongsam dress and small-heeled high heels, so she wasn’t as fast as her son.
Thus, she anxiously asked from behind.
"Logan, where are you going? What flight are you catching?"
"Mom, I’m in a hurry, I’ll talk to you later."
Logan Ray dashed into his room, didn’t even have time to shut the door, and headed straight for the cabinet in front of the big bed where his passport and visa were stored.
Going to Paris, there wasn’t much need to bring many items, just these two were enough.
Just as Logan picked up his passport and visa and returned to the door, he bumped head-on into his mother who had followed him from downstairs.
Lana Zachary held the doorknob with one hand and the door frame with the other, blocking her son inside the room.
"Logan, tell Mom, where are you going? And with whom?"
A bad feeling sprouted at the bottom of her heart, so Lana Zachary’s expression turned somber.
"Mom, I need to go back to Paris, please don’t block the way."
Logan showed helplessness, his trench coat hanging open, and his white shirt was crumpled, and his short hair slightly disheveled.
"I’m asking you, who are you going with!" Lana Zachary stood in front of the door, unyielding, her voice as stern as her facial expression.
"Mom!" Logan called out desperately, his handsome face distorting under stress, "Can you please not stand in the way? I’m really in a hurry, if I miss the flight..."
"Then what?" Lana Zachary cut off her son’s words, still blocking the door without giving way.
"Then..." Seeing his mother’s stern look, Logan’s words choked in his throat, listening to Lana Zachary’s severe questioning.
"Logan, you’re trying to leave without a word, where does that leave Ava?"
At the mention of Ava Charles, a flash passed through Logan’s eyes, then he slightly bowed his head, his voice weakening along.
"Where that leaves her is your concern, not mine."
"Logan, how can you say it doesn’t concern you!" Seeing her son guiltily lower his head, Lana Zachary’s expression turned even more severe.
"Mom, what exactly do you want!" Logan lifted his eyes in resignation, staring at his mother, he was supposed to meet with Titus at the hotel, but now his mother was blocking the door, refusing to budge, and he couldn’t just push her aside by force.
"It should be me asking you what you really want!" Lana Zachary suddenly raised her voice, her eyes fiercely locking on her son.
"Leaving aside whom you are going back to Paris with, about Ava here, how am I supposed to explain to her and her parents!"
"Do I need to explain my whereabouts to a mannequin model?" Logan, irritated by his mother’s pressing words, retorted loudly in impatience.
"Mannequin model?" Lana Zachary scoffed as she repeated the term, then her gaze sharpened and her voice grew even sterner.
"You know the intentions of the Charles family, you should be clear about your own intentions too!"
"That’s just your wishful thinking, it has nothing to do with me!"
"You dare say it has nothing to do with you," Lana Zachary nodded and sneered before continuing sternly.
"If it had nothing to do with you, would she agree to be your model, if it had nothing to do with you, why would she stay by your side these two months! What about that?" With that, Lana Zachary’s tone softened slightly, her face carrying a mock.